


Maybe tonight honey, I have a headache

by jjjat3am



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/jjjat3am
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the avengerskinkmeme <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16968.html?thread=37608264#t37608264">prompt</a>.<br/>Concentrating on long distances for extended periods of time can cause headaches.</p>
<p>So can hunching over electronics and machinery for a long time.</p>
<p>So can reining in the Hulk.</p>
<p>When Bruce, Clint and Tony find out they all suffer the same problem, just for different reasons, they get together and try to alleviate the pain.</p>
<p>Bonus, Tony suggests sex, because endorphins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe tonight honey, I have a headache

**Author's Note:**

> Here's to hoping nobody checks my recycle bin, bacause I googled sex and migraine way too many times.  
> Enjoy! Comments are loved and appreciated.

There were a lot of things about a Hulk Transformation Aftermath that Bruce hated. The first was probably the immediate thought of: _What did I destroy this time_ and the accompanying feeling of guilt and sadness. Usually when he opens his eyes, he’s naked, sitting in a crater in the middle of nowhere, with a dozen S.H.I.EL.D agents around, averting their eyes with sedative guns trained on him. 

Bruce is used to that. Once or twice he spares a thought to the surrealness of it, but hey, living with a Green Rage Monster isn’t exactly a predisposition for normalcy. What always catches him by surprise though, are the lingering headaches that follow after every single transformation. It’s like, by the time another one strikes, his body has already forgotten how much the previous one hurt, the dull, throbbing pain of it, the fever and the sensitivity. It starts as a dull pulse in his temples and evolves into a great hulking mammoth of a migraine over the course of a few hours. By then, he’s only lucid enough to stumble inside the apartment in Avengers tower that Tony gave him, lock the door behind him and beg Jarvis to cut the lights.

What follows is an exercise in willpower, containing the Hulk while he muddles through the pain, bemoaning the fact that the Hulk’s unique biochemistry made them immune to most painkillers.

Sometimes, all it would take to trigger a migraine was a bad day. And today was unquestionably a bad day. Bruce had already felt a bit off the moment he woke up, bits and pieces of a nightmare falling away with sleep, but leaving their mark nonetheless. Then somehow Doombots were attacking following Dr. Doom’s latest scheme, all before breakfast. The Avengers were fed on the jet, but upon returning in the evening, most of them retired to their quarters, citing the need to shower and sleep. Bruce was planning on doing some calculations after his shower, but the first sliver of pain in his temple let him know that medical breakthroughs were not in the cards tonight.

He took the elevator up to the kitchen, hoping that a pot of the chamomile-lavender infusion might stave off the impending headache. When he got there, the lights were already set to dim and Clint was sprawled in one of the kitchen chairs.

It was certainly not the bright-eyed expert marksman of that morning that now sat at the table. The grunt of a greeting was barely audible from under the cool towel draped over the archer’s head and Bruce tried to moderate his voice accordingly.

“Headache?”

Another grunt, this one sounding affirmative.

“Me too. Want tea? It helps.”

A grunt and a snuffle from under the towel, which Bruce took for approval, and started boiling some water.

The door to the kitchen opened and banged against the cupboard with a noise that caused a choked off sob from under the towel.

“Ladies!” said Tony, striding into the room. “Jarvis has informed me that we have a case of synchronized cycles on our hands. 

 

“We don’t get periods, Tony, perhaps you were thinking of Agent Romanoff?” said Bruce, fussing with the tea bags.

“Migraines! The bane of a scientist’s existence. All those papers and tiny numbers and computer screens take their toll and I pay the price. Which is why I prepared a special Anti-headache room years ago.” said Tony, who on second look, didn’t look nearly as exuberant as his words might imply. In fact, the pinched look around his eyes would probably evolve into the abject misery Clint was displaying when Tony removed his towel, revealing usually sharp eyes hazy with pain. “Come on, Brucie-poo, take your tea with you. Up you go, Katniss.”

They half walked, half stumbled to the elevator. The ride was mercifully short, but Clint still spent it hiding his face into Tony’s shoulder, all preconceived notions of masculinity cast aside.

Tony guided them into a blessedly cool, dark room with a table filled with cold compresses, painkillers and water bottles. Clint only just made it to the big bed in the center of the room, before collapsing, Tony following. Bruce picked up a few more cold compresses and followed them.

The last thing he was aware of, before falling into peaceful slumber was Tony’s head settling on his shoulder and Clint’s head resting on his stomach from his curled up position; warm, grounding points of contact that seemed to calm the grumbling Hulk into submission. 

*

Bruce woke up disoriented, but warm and tangled in limbs.

“You know, we should just have sex next time.”

“And good morning to you too, Tony.” Came Clint’s voice, positioned uncomfortably closely to certain parts of Bruce’s anatomy that were getting a bit too interested in the proceedings.

“Think about it! Orgasms cause endorphins and endorphins raise the body’s threshold to pain, therefore orgasms equal no pain! Of course we’d have to test it first, see how much endorphins we release…”

“What, right now?” Clint’s voice was pitched significantly lower than before and he almost sounded…sultry. 

“No time like the present! Jarvis are you recording this? This is precious data!”

Bruce shifted and drew Tony into a kiss. Turns out there was a pain-free way of shutting him up. Judging by Clint’s grin against his bare stomach, he agreed.

And what do you know, his headache was gone.


End file.
